


Trick or Treats

by Devsfan55



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devsfan55/pseuds/Devsfan55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Metro Police throw a Halloween party for the local children's charities. Mystrade centric, but a little Johnlock for added flavor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trick or Treats

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first foray into Mystrade and the first written piece that I posted on Tumblr. I'm not close to perfect and write to make myself and other's smile. Please don't jump down my throat if you don't like it. If you don't like slash DON'T READ THIS! Just a bit of fluff. :)

"Sir, come take a look round, you'll never believe what they've done with the place." Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade smirked as he looked up at his team member Sally Donovan. Setting his pen down on the stack of paperwork and case notes he rose stiffly and moved towards the door of his small office. He follows her down the hall to the large common area where any and all functions for the yard were held and allows the look of amazement to show on his face. The large room is decked in every Halloween decoration imaginable. Giant cobwebs filled with plastic spiders hang from the ceiling and fill the corners. Skeletons, ghosts and all other sorts of ghouls are placed around tables filled with jack-o-lanterns, candles and massive amounts of food, drinks and treats. One corner is awash with UV lights adding an eerie glow to the posed skeletons there.

"Right good job they've done." he says to Sally with a smile. "The kids will absolutely love this."

"Not just the kids I think." she replies with a smirk.

"I'm certain you're right. If you're finished with your paperwork, you'd best be off to get ready." he says as he turns to walk back to his office.

"What about you sir?" she calls to his retreating figure.

"I'm good, got my costume here already. Perks of having an office and all that. Besides I still have paperwork that needs to be done." he laughs. "See you in a few hours."

Greg sighs as he lowers himself into his chair to continue with his work. The lads did a fine job of decorating for the Yard's first ever Halloween party to benefit some of the local children’s charities. The kids that normally didn't get to celebrate much would be well taken care of tonight. With a smile at that thought he turns his thoughts back to the mess of papers on his desk.

About an hour later he finishes with as much of the work as he can. He's still waiting on a few forensic reports, but the bulk of the report has been filled out. Standing from his chair, he moved about the room to close the blinds. He slid open the garment bag that hung on the hook behind his desk. He secretly hoped that Mycroft didn't have his office under surveillance as he stripped off his jacket and shirt. That was, unless Mycroft himself was watching. He knew he wasn't though. He had been called away for some crisis somewhere and wouldn't be able to attend the party. He really wished that Mycroft could be there, especially since Sherlock and John were coming. He hoped that John would be able to keep Sherlock in line. His sometimes rude and abrupt deductions had caused many an argument in the yard offices before. He had been in a jovial mood when he had invited them, but now uncertainty crept into his gut. With another shrug he placed his shirt and jacket on his desk and reached into the garment bag. He slid on the high collared white shirt and buttoned it before removing his shoes and trousers. He quickly slid on the navy woolen slacks and the calf high leather boots. Tucking in the white shirt he fastened the buttons on the trousers and buckled the thin black leather belt. He removed the navy jacket and put it on, turning to hang his work suit in the garment bag. He buttoned the jacket with a little effort, scoffing at the buttons being on the side instead of the middle. Removing a small case from his garment bag, he made his way to the loo for the finishing touches. He smiled at his reflection as he approached the mirror. Short hair notwithstanding, he made a fine Inspector Javert. He carefully glued the sideburns on in their proper position and smiled. He really did miss the days of doing small shows in the theater with his sister. "Too bad Mycroft isn't here to see this." he thought. He made his way back to his office and slid on the heavy trench coat and hat that completed the costume. He hoped it wouldn't be too warm in the hall. He glanced quickly at the pocket watch and saw it was time to join the festivities. With another small sigh, he locked his office door and left for the party.

 

“This is stupid! Horrendously so!” Sherlock complained.

“Oh sod off! It’s for kids! Just quit your whinging!” John replied testily. He was looking forward to this. In truth he had been since Greg first mentioned it. “Besides, Donovan and Anderson will both have coronaries when they see your costume.” John smirked as he buckled the dagger sheath around his waist.

“Oh? I’m not the one in the tunic, John.” Sherlock chuckled.

“No, but you’ve got a blood stained white shirt and a straight razor. They may think that you’ve finally gone crackers and become Sweeney Todd!” John replied. “They may even think that’s real blood…”his voice trailed off. “It’s not, is it?”

“Well it’s not _human_ blood John, really.” Sherlock huffed.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “Sherlock, are you kidding me? There are going to be _children_ present!! You must be mad!” John replied as his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline. “Forget it, forget I asked. I don’t want to know! Do NOT tell ANYONE that it is not fake blood, not a SOUL! Just, let’s go.” With a final tug at the short tunic he is wearing John turns to the stairs. He tries to not think about his flatmate standing behind him. His flatmate who looks absolutely dashing in his black trousers and knee high boots, white puffy sleeved shirt with a brown leather-like waistcoat. The thick leather belt in light brown around his waist carries a pouch for the prop straight razor as well as a blood stained rag that drapes over his hip. His black hair is even marred with a patch of white to complete the look. John smirks and heads towards the door.

Sherlock smiles as he watches John retreat down the stairs to the door. His blood red tunic is framed with gold and falls to just above his knees. A leather chest plate covers his chest and shoulders. Leather guards cover his wrists and shins, leather sandals are laced closed on his feet. As he opens the door he leans the metal helm against his hip. “Are you coming Sherlock?”  

Sherlock smiles at his flatmate’s voice “Yes John, keep your tunic on.”

“Very funny Sherlock.”

The evening was as perfect as it could be. The children were laughing, playing games and gorging on massive amounts of treats. Greg was certain that some of these children had never had anything quite like this before; the absolute joy could be seen on every face in the room. He smiled as he sipped his drink. Sally and Anderson were conversing with a pair of young twin boys who were completely enamored with Anderson’s mummy costume and Sally’s zombie makeup. D.I. Dimmock was chatting with Molly. He couldn’t quite tell if either of them were blushing due to the green makeup they both wore. Dimmock did a fine job on his Frankenstein monster and Molly had done a terrific job dressing as Elphaba from Wicked. Greg silently hoped that Dimmock could help Molly get over Sherlock, especially after the horror of last Christmas. Besides, Sherlock had John. He looked over towards the pair and noticed how Sherlock was teasing John over his tunic causing the poor doctor to pull down on the hem and blush profusely. He was about to walk over to them when another sight caught his eye.  A tall gentleman dressed in a fine black tuxedo was making his way around the tables. He held a fine black walking stick with a carved skull at the top and a luxurious looking cape trailed to his calves. A black fedora sat atop his head and Gregory smiled.  The man walked gracefully as a cat from table to table, looking at the decorations. When he turned in Greg’s direction he could see that he wore a white mask. Not the traditional half mask from the show on the west end, but a mask that hid his entire face to just below his nose. His heart fluttered in his chest. He recognized the familiar lips as they rose in their trademark smirk. The walk was as familiar to him as his own was. As his brain made the connection the masked man turned to face him.  Greg stood still, rooted to the spot he was in as the masked man turned on his heel and moved towards him. 

The tuxedo was a perfect fit, the white pleated shirt gleaming in the light. His heart began to hammer in his chest and he fought the urge to break into a huge grin.

“You make a fine Inspector Javert, Detective Inspector. It’s as if you were made for that character.” drawled the familiar voice as he stood in front of Greg.

“And you sir make for an extremely dashing Phantom, Mr. Mycroft 'I am sorry I will be unable to attend' Holmes.” Greg replied with a small smile despite himself. “I’m glad you made it”

“Yes well, I managed to tidy up my meetings quicker than anticipated.” Mycroft replied as he flicked at an imaginary fleck of desk on his cape. Greg could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh bollocks! You didn’t just pull this” he said as he gestured to Mycroft’s costume, “out of your arse.”

Mycroft smirked. “Why ever would I have to pull anything from anywhere? I assure you that most of this was available in my wardrobe.”

Greg raised an eyebrow at that. “Really. The tuxedo I can see, but the walking stick, mask and fedora? Mycroft, even the shoes look like they are from the production on the West End!”

“Yes, well Anthea truly is indispensible.” Mycroft answered with a smile. “I just happen to know where to get authentic articles.”

Greg scoffed. “You probably borrowed them from the bloody show!”

“It’s possible.” Mycroft returned mildly, as if it was a natural occurrence.

“You are truly something.” Greg replied softly. “I am so glad you’re here.”

“I am glad as well. I was going to wear the proper half mask, but I wanted to surprise you. I should have known that your superior detective skills would have made that nearly impossible.” Mycroft returned with a shy smile.

Greg felt his heart flutter at the praise. “No worries, I was still very surprised. I didn’t think you’d be here in the first place. I also never, ever thought I would see you dressed as the Phantom.”

“Why ever not? It is your favorite, is it not?”

“It is. How on earth did you figure that out? I’ve never told anyone.” The only person who knew of his small obsession with Phantom was his sister. It was one of the things they had shared for years.

“It wasn’t too hard to deduce. You hum the melodies when you are working on paperwork. It’s also one of the most played albums on your mp3 player. That and that John Owen-Jones bloke.” came a low voice from behind them. “Really Mycroft, could you be anymore lovesick?” Sherlock sneered at his brother.

Greg cleared his throat. “Sherlock, why were you looking through my mp3 player?”

“You can learn a lot about a person from their taste in music.” He replied non-chalantly. “Besides, I may have wanted to see if you had anything that I would want.”

Greg just shook his head. “So I like Phantom. A lot. It’s something that I share with my sis.”

Sensing a bit of tension brewing between the brothers John grabbed Sherlock. “Come on Sherlock; let’s go do some deductions for the kids.”

“For the kids?” Sherlock muttered looking at John as if he had lost his mind.

“Yes, just minor boring deductions, nothing too shocking. Don’t scandalize them, just show off a little. They will love it and so will you.” John replied dragging him towards a group of children.

“Oh I hope he doesn’t say anything too terrible.” Greg sighed as he watched them interacting with the kids.

“He is rather poorly behaved on most occasions, but I think he’ll be quite all right with the children. He does have a small soft spot for them.” Mycroft replied.

Greg turned his attention back to the man beside him. “You do look absolutely fantastic Mycroft.”

“Thank you Gregory. You do as well. This costume also looks as if it came out of the production of Les Miserables and yet you made such a fuss about mine.”

“Well, you said that you hadn’t planned on being here. I planned my costume for over a month in advance.” Greg replied with a chuckle. “So how did you know about my Phantom obsession?”

“Well, Sherlock was correct. You do hum the melodies when you are deep in thought. You also talk in your sleep.” Mycroft replied.

Greg’s cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink and Mycroft smiled. “I am glad that I did not have to look through your mp3 player for costume ideas. I don’t think I could pull off The Clash or David Bowie.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Greg replied with a smirk.  “I could see you as Bowie.”

“I think not.” gasped Mycroft in feigned shock. “I am grateful that Phantom was the highest on your list however, this style suits me best I believe, and the pun is not intended.”

Greg laughed out loud and placed his hand discreetly on his lover’s arm. “It certainly does suit you.”

“I am also glad because I just couldn’t see myself at a Clash concert, nor could I persuade Bowie out of his retirement. I was however able to procure these.” Mycroft stated with a flourish as he pulled two tickets from inside his coat pocket.

Greg stared at the tickets, all intelligent thought fleeing his brain. They were front row seats. “Front row?” was all that fell from his lips.

“Naturally my dear. One good turn deserves another. You are spending an evening forgoing paperwork or a night off to make these children smile. I was happy to do this.” Mycroft returned with a smile.

“Mycroft, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much. You didn’t have to. I am enjoying this too. Paperwork can wait, especially for these kids.” He looked at the tickets again before giving them to Mycroft to hold onto. “You are going with me, right?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s not opera, but it is still pleasant. Especially that John Owen-Jones fellow.” Mycroft replied with a smile. “Now shall we check on my brother? The children appear to be having too much fun.”

With a nod and a smile Greg walked with Mycroft. This was indeed the best Halloween ever.


End file.
